


Breaching The Wall

by intomyfantasy



Series: 23:59 [2]
Category: Mewgulf
Genre: A lot of sleeping, Canon Compliant, Cuddling, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, gulf's pov, season 1 workshops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:26:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24893104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/intomyfantasy/pseuds/intomyfantasy
Summary: Gulf never thought that kissing a man would be so easy.
Relationships: Mew Suppasit Jongcheveevat/Gulf Kanawut Traipipattanapong, Tharn Thara Kirigun/Type Thiwat Phawattakun
Series: 23:59 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1563004
Comments: 58
Kudos: 496





	Breaching The Wall

**Author's Note:**

> Here I am again! This fiction takes place during workshops for season 1. As usual it can be read as a stand alone, but it follows real-life events, so you can consider it part of the same universe as the other fictions in the series. 
> 
> Good reading!

It had only been a couple of weeks since the start of workshops, but whatever reservations Gulf had about his BL adventure were gone.

He had been very anxious at first. He had tried the BL route on his agency’s suggestion, and he had doubted his proficiency in the genre more often than he was willing to admit. Even if he was a firm believer that a good actor must be able to play any role, he was also aware that not all those who worked as actors were _good_ actors and he had yet to understand in which category he fell – he had started as a model, after all.

When he failed the auditions for his first BL series, he wasn’t surprised at all.

He wasn’t proud to admit that had taken the chance too lightly, and by the time he had realized his huge mistake, there was no correcting it. He had given his best, but he knew that his best at the time had been nothing more than a subpar performance.

Even if he tried to act like he was attracted to the man standing in front of him, the emotional disconnection between them loomed on him like a tall, invisible wall. If he had to guess why the wall existed, Gulf would say that both he and his counterpart didn’t know what they were doing, and that knowledge created a misplaced sort of camaraderie between them – they looked at each other in the eyes and it was immediately understood that they were going to go through each and every mildly uncomfortable romantic scene as impromptu buddies. 

He was sure that a good actor would have been able to get immersed in their character and give an amazing performance no matter who their partner was, but Gulf was only a newbie and he didn’t know where to start to dismantle that wall.

It wasn't the first time he had experienced such a hurdle. Acting was all about breaking walls and reaching out, after all – towards another person, towards darker depths of emotion, towards a different side of yourself. Some things were easier to accomplish than others and breaking a wall could be a full process that required time, practice and persistence. It was definitely not something that could be accomplished during your audition day, though even that could be a good stepping stone to a better understanding of your weaknesses.

Gulf’s major weakness was his lack of romanticism.

There wasn’t much he could say in his defense, but he _had_ attended an all-boy high school, and his own movie preference fell more on the action and comedic side of the spectrum. Romance was something that didn’t come to him easily. More so when he had to act romantic with men.

He didn’t consider himself judgmental. He didn’t mind that they were men. Even that time he had acted in an MV where he was supposed to be the main girl’s boyfriend he had still looked fairly out of place, after all. But he had to admit that it was easier with girls. Either because of personal experience or because he had watched enough media to know how to behave with one in a romantic context.

He didn’t have such experience with men. Nor in acting the more “submissive” role. Something as stupid as his hand going to the guys’ waist instead of their chest or shoulder area could ruin the overall feeling of the audition. It was always the small details that ruined it.

He had watched some BLs before, for reference, but as far as he had gathered with his limited research, there were only two types of BL in the Thai entertainment industry: the extremely tame-and-low-on-the-romantic-aspect-of-the-story BLs, that could give him almost nothing in terms of body language, or the excessively hardcore ones, focusing on almost explicit love scenes that left him mildly uncomfortable.

He hadn’t been very confident or hopeful on the day he auditioned for TharnType The Series. He’d chosen to audition for Type’s character because he had a few things in common with him, but he couldn’t say he believed he could deliver him well.

In fact, thinking back, he was pretty sure he hadn’t been particularly outstanding at first. Yes, Type came to him easier than other characters he had tried because Gulf felt like he kind of understood the guy, and his solo audition had gone well, but he had documented himself some before enrolling and he knew for a fact that TharnType The Series was going to be heavily based on its love scenes. He knew for a fact that there was going to be a chemistry test and he dreaded it.

Chemistry was hard.

No matter how much you practiced, chemistry couldn’t be faked. Imitated, maybe, yes, and Gulf tried his best, but that real chemical reaction, that vibe, that sparkle that the producers of the series were searching for… Gulf couldn’t achieve it by himself.

Type was a manly character but he had an eroticism to him that Gulf didn't know how he was supposed to accomplish.

Eroticism or softness weren't exactly his area of expertise. He could deal with the scenes were Type kicked a ball on a soccer court or hit his friend on the head, but that was where their similarities ended. He was very well aware that it wouldn't be enough to get the part. A few times, during the audition, he also found himself wondering if he wanted the part at all.

So imagine his surprise when after an uncountable number of tries to make himself get into character and reach the appropriate emotional spectrum, he actually felt his heart skip a beat and his whole body flush for a man.

When he thought back about it, Gulf thoughts still lingered in wonder. He really didn't know where that reaction had come from. He had no idea he had it in him.

When Mew had entered the audition room and started playing with him, it was like the wall he had felt with everyone else simply didn’t exist. He forgot it ever existed until the next Tharn came up to him.

He still couldn't explain it. He didn't know why it was so easy to get into character when Mew was around.

People said they had natural chemistry.

Gulf didn't really know what that meant, but he could definitely feel it. It was a heady feeling he had never experienced before. A sort of gravitational pull. He didn't know how else to explain it.

If Mew was around, his attention converged to the man before he could realize it. He was aware of the man's presence in a way he had never been aware of anything else. It made goosebumps raise on his skin, but he couldn't decide if they were the good or the bad kind. Still, it was addicting.

Mew, he had learned during the weeks of workshop they had spent together, had an intensity to him that Gulf had never experienced with anyone else. When he looked at you, it was with intent. His stare was sharp, deep, unmoving. Gulf had realized soon that it often made people uncomfortable, that people mostly kept their distance from the man, but Mew looked at him differently. With a spark of curiosity. Sometimes he would see a tentative softness in them, but it usually disappeared quickly, swallowed in distrust.

Gulf would have liked to say he didn't know what that was about, would have wanted Mew to open up by himself when the right time came, but it had taken him just a quick research of his costar name on the internet to find way too much information. He had already heard the rumors – had heard some other actors whisper at auditions – but he had chosen to ignore all of it.

For some reason, those rare moments of softness were everything Gulf could concentrate on as of lately. Before he knew it, making them happen with more frequency had become a sort of personal mission and he had started moving around Mew based on their appearance.

He had learned sooner rather than later that the easiest way to avoid Mew's defense mechanisms and reach out to him was submission.

At the time Gulf didn't know how to call it, but he knew that Mew relaxed the most when Gulf showed that he trusted him. Asking questions was good, even when they were stupid and naïve; listening closely to the answers and demonstrating that he had understood what he had been told also helped; letting Mew take the lead was the easiest way to make the man relax and, curiously, it also helped Gulf do the same.

No matter how out of depth he felt, Mew was always there to help him through it. He wasn't annoyed by his lack of experience; he didn't mind giving him time to adapt when he wasn't completely comfortable, and went out of his way to find ways to help him through it.

Sometimes, Gulf felt like a toddler learning how to walk for the first time, knowing that there were a pair of strong hands ready to catch him as soon as started to fall.

It was a strange feeling. A comforting one, actually. There was something about the way Mew naturally took care of him that made Gulf feel… young. Younger. Treasured. Like a child.

It wasn't something he remembered experiencing in a long time, if ever. He was 185 centimeters tall, way taller than any of his peers, not exactly baby material. Even his own parents had stopped coddling him when he first hit puberty. But that was how he felt around Mew. Small. Young. Free.

And he acted like it too.

He wasn't properly conscious of it. He knew he acted differently around Mew, but it was out of pure reflex. It was normal to act differently with different people, wasn't it? People adapted to others at the best of their possibilities based on what they knew about their interlocutor all the time, for the sake of a comfortable exchange. It was the same as adapting to situations, really. That was his theory – he unconsciously adapted to Mew's needs, for the sake of a smooth relationship.

He reverted. Yes, that was what he did when he was with Mew for long periods of time. He automatically started acting in a more childish way. He couldn't explain it, it just happened. It felt right. It made Mew soft.

After reading the script of the series the first time, he had caught himself using _nuu_ (little man, kiddo) to refer to himself more than once. Type used it to talk with his parents, but he started using it to talk with Mew. Thinking back, it should have been a dead giveaway. A full-fledged adult using _nuu_ to refer to himself to someone other than his parents was weird to say the least.

But Mew didn't question it. Mew looked at him with fondness when he used it. Rubbed his tummy, caressed his hair or touched his cheek with his nose, and Gulf... Gulf felt… good. Accomplished.

It was peculiar, but it eased the skinship they had to do during workshops.

At first he had been worried about this side of the job, since he wasn't a physical person, but fortunately for him, Mew was his exact opposite.

Gulf had discovered soon that the man spent a lot of his energy holding back from reaching out to people, and that stressed him out more than Mew was willing to admit.

Knowing why Mew overthought every move he made, didn't only make Gulf feel sad, but also angry.

Yes, Mew was clearly not easy to handle. He was hot tempered and could go hot to cold in very short periods of time with no warning, but Gulf could tell that it wasn't because it was in his nature, but more because he could never relax, never let his guard down, even if he desperately wanted to. Mew distrusted people, distrusted him, questioned his intentions all the time. His mind worked a thousand miles a minute all the time and that made him snappy and easily frustrated.

There was only one way to really reach out to Mew, and it was by forcing his instincts to take over his mind.

Gulf had become quite good at that, if he could say so himself.

\--

Mew's hold around him tightened and Gulf smiled secretly, making himself comfortable on the man's body.

They were sprawled on the floor together. It was the fourth week of workshops.

As it always happened, they spent as much time together as they could, alternating rehearsals to... well, cuddling, basically. There wasn't any other way to call it, really. They spent hours at a time trying to maintain as much physical contact as possible, in hopes of getting used to each other enough to not look awkward when the filming of the series actually started.

Since Gulf was a big sleepyhead, half of that time was spent napping together, often in weird positions, and that day was no exception.

"We should rehearse the next scene," Mew piped up after some time spent huddled together on the blanket on the floor. "P'May is staring daggers at us from the other side of the room. Our break should have been over a while ago."

Gulf mumbled “just five more minutes” in protest, hiding his face better in the crook of Mew's neck. He didn't want to move. He could barely feel his bones right now. That was how relaxed he felt.

He felt fingers brush hair out of his eyes and unconsciously left out a little sigh of contentment.

His heart made a little jump when he realized, but his reaction seemed to inspire those same fingers to tangle properly in his hair and pet him, so he settled back, basking in the attention.

His breathing soon started slowing again, following the rhythm of Mew's strokes and he knew that if he didn't move, he would fall asleep soon, but it was so hard... he felt so good...

When he was on the brick of consciousness, the shock of Mew's leg sliding between his jolted him awake.

His eyes opened slightly, and his blurry vision revealed that Mew was breathing quietly right next to him, his body slack and soft, his eyes closed, the hand he had been using to stroke his hair resting on his neck.

He was asleep.

Gulf closed his eyes again, but the slight pressure between his legs was making his skin tingle.

He frowned a little, feeling weirdly sensitive. Inguinal stimulation when on the verge of sleeping was such a bad combination... He knew he should detangle himself from Mew, but the man was wrapped all around him and Gulf felt way too comfortable and lethargic.

He kept his eyes stubbornly closed, set on a well-deserved nap, and shifted slightly on his side to make himself even more comfortable, but his stupid movement made Mew's leg hitch higher between his and before he knew it, his crotch was resting right on Mew's thigh.

Mew's hold tightened around his waist in his sleep, pushing him against it, and Gulf couldn't contain the small, vulnerable sound that escaped his lips.

He realized vaguely that he was starting to harden. Still, he couldn't be arsed to move. It wasn't the first time he had a semi around the elder, anyway. With all the sleeping they did together, it was inevitable to wake up with a chubby once in a while.

He had been very shy about it the first time.

The thought made a sluggish smile curve his lips.

Mew had let him flee without saying a word back then, but had took him away from the others at the end of the day to talk to him.

"I know this is going to be an awkward conversation for you, but please bear with me for a minute," Mew had begun.

It had been awkward to say the least. Gulf's ears had been on fire by the end of it.

Mew had only told him reasonable things, really. That there was no need to feel embarrassed by his physiological reactions, that it was probably going to happen often during workshops and filming, especially considering the amount of kissing they had do for the series, so the faster he got used to the idea, the better they could work together.

To be honest, Mew had only told him things he should know and not be concerned about. He had attended an all-boy high school, for God’s sake! He was perfectly aware that impromptu erections were an everyday occurrence and they didn't necessarily mean anything. Your dick was going to react to any kind of stimulus, that you wanted it or not. He knew it, logically. He should have been right at home in the BL industry, since he got to work mostly with men, and he felt pretty comfortable around the other cast members, but for some reason it was different with Mew. Mew made him _shy_... he made him overly conscious of himself. Having a hard-on in his presence wasn't as casual as with the others.

He had forced himself to behave rationally after that episode, though. He wasn't going to be a hindrance just because he was stupidly bashful. There really wasn't place for shyness in a job like his. He needed to overcome it. So the next time it happened, Gulf held his ground and acted like he didn’t notice that his pants were tenting.

He was sure that he didn't do too well the first few tries. Between his flushed face and his embarrassed stutters – not to mention the uncomfortable fidgeting – he gave himself away even when his downstairs situation wasn't obvious.

Still, Mew behaved like a perfect gentleman and simply overlooked his ridiculous behavior, continuing whatever they were doing normally.

Eventually, Gulf had started to relax and now he could proudly say that he could strut around with a chubby without wincing one bit. If that was anything to be proud of…

Thinking about it, had that ever happened to P’Mew? He didn’t remember the elder ever having an-

"Guys, rehearsal. _Now_." P’May’s voice was so stern and so close that Mew jolted awake and away from him in a second, leaving him cold.

He reluctantly opened his eyes and found P’May staring down at him with a crooked eyebrow.

He gave her a small, apologetic smile and finally sat up with Mew’s help.

It was time to work.

\--

When he wasn’t busy with workshops, Gulf still attended university, hung out with his friends (mostly to play soccer) or went out with his girlfriend. He didn’t have much free time, but that didn’t bother him as much as he thought it would. Workshops were part of his job, but he spent so much time just fooling around with P’Mew and the others that it mostly felt as easy as simply hanging out with friends. Even script rehearsal couldn’t stress him out. 

He was an introvert, though, so spending that much time in social situations ultimately drained him of his energy. After a weekend of intensive workshops, it wasn’t uncommon for him to lock himself inside his room and play games to compensate and recuperate. 

When he got sick of playing ROV on his mobile under the covers, he moved to the gaming console on his desk, connected with his friends or even strangers, and played with a headset. That was all the human contact he allowed himself. 

Sometimes, P’Mew participated too. 

To be honest, one of the reasons why they were bonding so fast was the gaming. 

When Gulf gamed, he forgot about obligations, age, shyness. He got completely immersed in the game and in the game’s mission and could think of nothing else. There were occasions in which he had taken his frustrations out on anyone playing with him and Mew wasn’t an exception, though Gulf always remembered to say sorry at the end of it all. 

Mew didn’t seem to mind too much, though he teased him about it pretty often, but Gulf was 100% sure that the only reason why the elder was okay with Gulf talking to him in a harder tone was because Gulf didn’t forget to make it up to him at the end. 

“Is your _faen_ gonna join us today?” 

He vaguely heard his friends snicker like hyenas in his ears and felt like scratching one to get rid of the annoyance, but he was too busy killing the enemy on the screen to move his hand. “He’s busy with his dissertation today,” he answered, while he quickly changed the weapon his character was using with a few swift movements of his fingers. 

He killed a few more monsters with a combo move and cheered when he saw that he had cleared the level.

Someone cleared their throat in his ears, and someone else snickered again. 

This time Gulf took out one of his headphones and scratched one ear, annoyed by the sound.

“What?” he demanded, knitting his eyebrows together in confusion, while the game loaded the next scenery and he put the headphone back.

“He didn’t even realize,” Beam commented, making the others snicker more. 

“Dude, you sure gay isn’t contagious?” 

“Kobalt, shut up, you judgmental asshole,” he snapped, surprising even himself. 

A chorus of “ohhhh”s raised in his ears and Gulf rolled his eyes. Why did he hang out with these people again? 

“What about your _other_ _faen,_ Kanawut?”

Gulf paused in confusion, his frown deep and a “what the hell are you talking about” on the tip of his tongue.

Then it hit him.

 _Oh_. 

He felt himself blush and he looked around, grateful to be alone in the protection of his room. 

Had he just… but he thought… 

“You asked if someone was joining us,” he accused, not happy about it. “You meant P’Mew.” 

“Yes, I meant _P’Mew_ ,” his friend confirmed, mocking the way he said the elder’s name, making all the others laugh again. 

“Dude, I feel bad for Pui,” he heard Jambo comment. 

Gulf felt the flush of embarrassment and anger spread to his ears. “Ah ah ah, very funny.” 

“You never talk about her, Kanawut. My girlfriend would have dumped me a thousand years ago if I paid so little attention to her.” 

“Why should I talk about her to you? She’s my girlfriend not yours.” 

“A waste,” Kobalt whispered in the distance, raising more laughter. 

“Well, she’s hot, dude. If I was you, I’d show her off all the time,” commented Jambo. 

“Good for you?” 

The other snickered again. 

“Let it go, Jambo. Gulf is from a different species.” 

“Yeah, I’m the only one with a brain.” 

Another chorus of “ohh” raised from the guys and Gulf rolled his eyes again, ignoring the displeasing feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

Assholes. 

\--

Their lips met and finally separated the last time with a smacking sound. 

Gulf’s eyes fluttered open and met Mew’s for a second, before both looked away with a friendly grin. 

“We might want to level up our kissing game, or next time I’m gonna fall asleep in the middle of it,” he commented jokingly, even though it wasn’t exactly a lie. He felt very boneless every time they kissed and his first instinct was to roll over, close his eyes and forget the world even existed. Which wasn’t good for rehearsal purposes. 

Mew snorted. “You sleep all the time, it hardly has to do with kissing.” 

Gulf pouted. “I’m still a baby, I need nappies.” 

Mew side-eyed him for a second, but eventually his soft tone and his pout got the upper hand and the man sighed and hugged him closer. “You’re ridiculous.” But his tone was fond and Gulf smiled triumphantly. 

Mew stayed wrapped around him while they browsed the script and settled on the next scene to rehearse.

“Should we try another kiss scene?” the man asked, while flipping through the pages. “To see if I can manage to not make you fall asleep?” 

Gulf smirked. “Have I hurt your ego?” 

Mew frowned. “I was trying to be considerate of your sensibilities.” Gulf snorted again and Mew glared at him. “I’m pretty sure you know by now that kissing during workshops isn’t exactly common. It didn’t seem appropriate to go all out.” 

“And when did you plan to ‘go all out’ then?” 

Mew seemed taken aback by that question. “Well… later. When you got more comfortable.” 

“We have been at it for weeks, Phi. I can’t possibly get more comfortable than this. I told you your kisses put me to sleep!” That gained him a blank stare. “I mean no offence, I’m just trying to prove a point. I’m trying to be Type here. Relaxed isn’t exactly his modus operandi, so will you please be serious about this and stop overthinking? I ‘went all out’ the first time myself, so why wouldn’t you?” 

A meaningful pause hung between them, but Gulf stood his ground. He was sick of living in the shadow of Mew’s previous co-star. He wanted Mew to trust him. Once and for all. He had never given the man any reason not to, and it frustrated him that he was being compared to another. They needed to get past this, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to act properly. 

He had overheard the production team talk among themselves one night, before going home after workshops. P’Tee was telling P’May that he was worried by Mew’s performance, that it looked like he couldn’t quite get fully into character. He had a hard time understanding Tharn, for some reason. So they had said. 

Gulf had thought about it for the whole ride home, in his mom’s car. 

He kind of understood where they were coming from, though he had never really formulated the thought in his mind, because he had his own struggles with his character, but… he did recognize that Mew had difficulties falling completely into character, but Gulf didn’t think it was because of lack of acting skills. Mew was _choosing_ not to fall completely into character. And Gulf thought he knew why too. 

“I want you to come at me with everything you have,” he emphasized, then looked at Mew straight in the eyes, hoping that his message could be delivered loud and clear and the man would see that he meant every word. “Make me feel like Type. Make _me_ your Type.” 

Mew’s eyes held his stare for a long while. Gulf recognized a number of emotions rushing through them, too quick for him to name, as fleeting and beautiful as a meteor shower during a summer night.

By the time Mew finally exhaled through his nose and the whole galaxy settled again, Gulf had gotten completely lost.

He startled a little when gentle fingers circled his wrist, and looked down at their contact point before meeting Mew’s eyes again.

“Don’t regret it.” 

His heartbeat spiked. “I won’t.” 

The grip around his wrist tightened infinitesimally, but before Gulf could find out if anything had actually changed thanks to his words, they were interrupted by P’Tee, walking up to them with his version of the script rolled in one hand like a cone. 

“Guys, Kaownah has arrived. We are rehearsing the scene with Lhong first.”

Mew’s attention was diverted from him and Gulf silently sighed. 

He felt like he had just missed a precious opportunity. 

\--

"P'Mew, why are you so slow?! I'm literally dying here."

"Hey, I'm surrounded by enemies myself, have some patience, I can't deal with them _and_ babysit-" 

"Shit!" 

He was dead. The mission had failed. 

Gulf ruffled his hair in frustration before turning to Mew with a glare. 

"You were supposed to be next to me, Phi!" 

"Hey, you can't expect me to save your ass all the time, kiddo."

The endearment made him deflate, and before he knew it his frown had turned into half a pout and he was leaning against Mew's side, sulking. 

He looked at the screen of his phone, where the game had reloaded and decided that he had had enough. 

He blocked the screen and put his phone aside on the floor. 

Mew observed him for a moment, but eventually imitated him. 

They stayed in silence for a few minutes, while Gulf came back from the adrenaline rush caused by the game, but eventually he spoke again, with a softer voice. 

"You really should have been beside me."

Mew smiled. Gulf couldn't see it in their position, but he could feel it. 

"I got distracted." 

"By what?" 

Mew reached out for his hair, that was falling into his eyes, and brushed it back with his fingers. 

The gentle pressure made Gulf relax immediately. He loved having his hair touched. 

"This," said Mew. "It's gotten too long, I was thinking about tying it for you. It keeps getting into your eyes."

Gulf kept his eyes closed while Mew continued brushing his hair back, as if he was petting a dog, but when his body completely slumped against Mew’s, the elder stopped his ministrations, making Gulf look up at him in confusion and mild disappointment. 

Mew met his eyes with a tiny smirk gracing his lips. “I’m not letting you fall asleep on me this time.” 

“I wasn’t gonna sleep,” he protested. 

“Yeah, right. It takes you less than a minute with your eyes closed to lose consciousness, do you think I don’t know? Your body goes pliant, your breathing slows and your lips part. I’m not gonna let you drool on me.” 

“I don’t drool!” he exclaimed indignantly, but his smile was too big and his chuckle definitely not convincing. 

Mew snorted. “Tell that to all my shirts you’ve drooled on.”

Gulf settled back against the elder’s shoulder with a semi pout. “I’m not used to sleep with someone else,” he mumbled. 

“You could have fooled me. You fall asleep on me all the time, kiddo.” 

“That’s because it’s you.” 

A pause. “So what? I receive special treatment? Am I that boring?” 

“That’s not it, phi! It’s a compliment! Kinda. I mean…” Gulf stumbled on his words, trying to find the best explanation. “I feel no tension when I’m with you. I feel… safe, I guess. I’m not bored, just… comfortable.”

Mew seemed to ponder his words for a while, because he didn’t move nor give him any other reaction. Gulf let him think it over without distracting him, simply keeping close and silent. It was the truth, and it was important. He wanted Mew to know that he was really comfortable with him. That he trusted him.

He wanted Mew to feel the same. 

At long last, a pair of strong arms circled his waist and he found himself in a tight embrace. Mew’s cheek pressed against his shoulder and he felt the man’s breath tickle his nape.

A squeeze.

Gulf picked his phone back up and smiled.

\--

On the last day of workshops, Gulf arrived quite early. His mom left for wherever she went while he was busy working and reminded him to call her when he was done.

He bid her goodbye and got inside.

A part of the staff was already at the venue and greeted him warmly.

“Heard the call of your other half?” snickered one of them from the back. Gulf couldn’t catch who it was, so he turned towards P’Tee in confusion.

The director was busy talking about some technicalities with the camera crew but took a moment to answer his silent question dismissively. “Mew is inside with P’Vee. He’s rehearsing a few solo scenes. You can go in too and ask her to help you out with something if you want, we’ll join you when the others are here too.”

Gulf nodded and headed towards the rehearsal room. He peaked inside first, afraid that he might disturb.

P’Mew and P’Vee sat on the floor, in the furthest angle of the room, bent over Mew’s script, talking about something very animatedly.

Gulf slid inside the room quietly and lingered at the entrance, wondering if it was the right time to interrupt them.

Mew must have caught movement from the corner of his eye, though, because he raised his head and turned towards him. “Hey, you’re early,” he greeted him with a big smile.

Veerandah turned to warmly welcome him too.

“The traffic wasn’t as bad as we thought,” he explained, heading towards them.

When he was close enough, Mew circled his wrist with his fingers and gently pulled him down to sit beside him. “I got here early too. I was going through a few scenes with P’Vee.”

A quick glance at the open script on the floor was enough for Gulf to recognize the lines from Tharn and Type’s break-up scene. It was probably the most difficult scene of the whole series in terms of acting. Both of them were struggling with it, but Mew was having a harder time, because he genuinely had trouble understanding why Tharn loved Type so much and why he would be so devastated by him leaving.

He could kind of relate to that sentiment. Type wasn’t exactly the definition of lovable. He had his cute moments, but they were mostly outshined by his negative traits. He wished he could help Mew get a better understanding of his character, but he didn’t fancy himself an articulate person and he wouldn’t know where to start. Not to mention it wasn’t his place to find beauty in Type. Finding something worth loving in Type was the whole point of Tharn’s character.

“Sorry for interrupting.”

“No, dear, you came at the right time. I was thinking that I want you guys to rehearse one of the love scenes again.”

Both of them stared at their acting coach curiously. A love scene? They hadn’t rehearsed those in a while. After P’Tee had deemed them comfortable enough with each other, they had moved on and concentrated to the more dramatic scenes. Gulf had genuinely thought that they weren’t going to touch another love scene until filming started.

“Tharn and Type’s love story is born out of pure chemistry. Their physical relationship is fundamental to the development of their whole story together. With the exception of the scene where Type tells Tharn about his past, their love scenes are the only moments when Type is honest about how he feels. He doesn’t talk, but there’s a vulnerability in his character that only comes out in those scenes and that’s where Tharn is most likely to find something to love. I want you guys to rehearse the love scene from episode 4 again, while keeping this in mind.”

Out of all suggestions, this was probably the last one he was expecting, but Gulf felt a tentative burst of excitement at the perspective.

After daring Mew to go all out on him, they hadn’t had any chance to rehearse a love scene again, and he hadn’t forgotten the fire that had burned in the elder’s eyes when he had asked him to come at him with everything he had.

“Think of nothing but the feelings of your characters. I don’t need you to recite your lines precisely, because that’s not the point of this exercise. What I want to see is Tharn and Type desiring each other with a passion.”

P’Vee turned pointedly towards him. “I want to see Type crumble under Tharn’s kisses.” Then towards Mew. “I want to recognize how beautiful Tharn thinks Type is from the look in his eyes.”

Gulf dared to turn towards his co-star too and found that the man sported a very concentrated and determined expression, so he quietly pushed the unprofessional wave of heat that had momentarily hit him at Vee’s words back where it had come from.

“Okay, we can do that. Right?” The man turned towards him for an answer.

“Sure.”

He feigned indifference but he felt weirdly disquiet about it. He was surprised to realize that he had a knot in his stomach, but he reasoned that any kind of nervousness would come in handy for this specific scene.

“I know we need ice, but let’s ignore the technicalities for now. Concentrate on what you’re supposed to feel and go with the flow, don’t think too much about the script.”

They both nodded in silence and quickly fixed their positions so that they could imagine to be sat next to each other on Tharn and Type’s beds.

They shared one last look between themselves, and Mew’s eyes fell to his lips. Lingered there, like he couldn’t see anything else. Gulf felt them tingle under the scrutiny. Was he already in character? 

The man bit his bottom lip and tilted his head towards him, making his throat run dry. “Are you ready?”

For a second, Gulf thought that it was Mew speaking, but then he realized that that was Tharn’s first line and hurriedly stumbled through his mind to reach out to Type’s feelings.

Type didn’t want it to show, but he was incredibly nervous. He wanted to get to the bottom of this. This weird feeling… this weird _want_ itching at the back of his head all the time since discovering that Tharn was gay. Despite his strong resolution, though, his hands were still clammy and his heart seemed to be ready to leap from his chest.

He stood his ground and scowled. “Will you quit stalling? I’ve been waiting all day.”

Gulf concentrated on how nerve-wrecking the wait must have been. How many times Type might have went back on his decision, just to look at Tharn once again and _want_ him. Bad enough to pull through.

Type didn’t get it past Tharn to have made him wait just to wear him out. If he thought that Type was going to chicken out now, he was severely mistaken. He wanted to give it a try. He needed to give it a try. Just to see… to check if… if it could be _different_. He couldn’t live with the doubt, so he needed to go through with it, no matter how much it scared him.

“Just do it and get over with it already.”

Tharn leaned towards him. He was so close… Type could count his eyelashes from here, but he was too concentrated on trying to breathe normally to do so. “Don’t you know? With this kind of stuff, we must be patient.”

The man’s eyes were still fixated on his lips and his mouth watered. He had to swallow to be able to talk again. “How is it any different from normal? You go straight to it and finish.”

“Did you normally do it like that with your exes?”

What kind of question was that? Sex was sex. Gulf was momentarily thrown out of character by how in line with his own thoughts Type’s were. Sex was sex, he thought again. “Yeah.”

“Let me teach you. When it comes to this kind of stuff, there’s more to it than just go straight to it and finish.”

Tharn pushed him towards the ground with a hand on his shoulder while he held his stare. Soon, the man was hovering over him, leaning in slowly.

Gulf took a moment longer than necessary to remember that they weren’t supposed to kiss yet. He jolted himself out of his stupor.

“No kissing,” he said, hurriedly, stopping Tharn in his tracks.

His roommate didn’t move away. “I’m not having sex with someone who won’t kiss me.”

His eyes moved nervously away from him. “Dammit.” Then he grabbed Tharn from his nape and pulled him into a kiss. Their mouths pressed together only for a moment. “Happy now?”

Tharn looked stunned, but got himself together quickly. “That’s not enough for me,” he whispered, pressing his whole body against his.

Type was as rigid as a log, his eyes wide open and his lips slightly parted around a silent protest that had died before it could climb out of his throat.

Tharn’s lips were moist and soft.

His taste was familiar, though it shouldn’t have been, his kisses warm and safe, but Gulf found that there was something new in them too. Some kind of determination, of… _want_.

A shiver run down his body, his back arched, and before he could actually think of the script or what he was supposed to do next, his eyes closed and he was returning the kiss with sudden need.

Tharn took his change of pace in a stride and his own kisses intensified. His mouth latched onto his upper lip and _sucked_.

A small sound escaped his throat and Type felt fingers brush his hair and pull them gently, sending jolts of sensation to the tips of his toes.

Tharn was heavy on him and incredibly warm. Or maybe the heat came from himself. He felt hot and sweaty and the sensation reminded Gulf that there was supposed to be ice at this point. But they didn’t have it.

Were they supposed to continue without it, then? Or stop?

P’Vee wasn’t saying anything…

Tharn was leaving kisses on his cheeks and on his neck and Type gave him space, feeling dizzy.

It was different from usual. Mew wasn’t keeping distance from his skin by simply brushing his nose along his throat, he was actually leaving kisses. _Open mouthed_ kisses. He could feel the bite of coldness when the man’s breath blew where his saliva was still drying, rising goosebumps on his tracks.

Their lips met again, and their tongues surprisingly joined the dance, sliding together in perfect sync. They had avoided such deep kisses since their very first one, when they had been Elio and Oliver from Call Me By Your Name…

His lips latched onto Tharn’s tongue greedily, sucking it into his mouth with abandon, hoping to drag him deeper. He tasted so good…

Their bodies started to rock, following the rhythm of their kisses. His thigh brushed between his lover’s legs and a groan that wasn’t his own echoed in his ears.

Gulf sucked a breath in, torn away from his character by the hardness pressing against him, and suddenly he couldn’t reach Type anymore. He was Gulf, and he was panting, and Mew’s erection was rubbing on his thigh. Thick and hard and _new_.

It was the first time… it had happened to him a million times, but Mew had never… he’d never seen or felt P’Mew’s…

P’Mew’s…

Mew moved to the corner of his mouth again and Gulf bit onto his bottom lip, a rush of heat suddenly clouding all his senses. He realized, hazily, that their movements hadn’t stopped – they were still rocking together, his leg rubbing between Mew’s over and over, more and more insistently, his own erection chasing the insufficient friction provided by the fabric of his pants.

But it wasn’t enough…

Mew wasn’t close enough…

If he only could slide a little bit closer…

The bite of teeth on his jaw made him gasp and his eyes flew open, finally meeting his co-star’s dark ones.

Their bodies stilled.

They stared at each other, panting quietly, their breaths mingling between them, and Gulf felt like he was drowning in the depths of Mew’s blown pupils.

Then the man gave him a small smirk. “Not asleep this time, are you?”

If he could have blushed any redder, he probably would have, but at this point his body couldn’t betray him more than it already had.

A clapping sound suddenly interrupted them, and both he and Mew turned towards P’Vee, who was still sitting not too far away from them. “That was amazing, guys!” she exclaimed. She sounded as breathless as Gulf felt. “I thought I would need to direct you, but there was nothing I could say. Do you feel like you understand your characters better?”

Gulf had no idea how to answer that question without mentioning his obvious hard-on so he let Mew do all the talking, while they detangled themselves from each other to sit properly on the floor again.

He had a hard time deciding how to position his legs so that his “problem” wasn’t too obvious, and at the end he opted for hugging his knees, feeling slightly uncomfortable.

By the time he turned to check how Mew was fearing, the man looked so unaffected that if he hadn’t felt Mew’s erection – why was he still blushing? – against his thigh, he’d never know that he had gotten one at all. His lap was even covered by the hem of his shirt, how lucky was that?

For some reason, that irritated him.

That couldn’t possibly be fair, could it? Why did he have to be the only embarrassed one? P’Mew had been turned on too!

… Right?

No… No, it had been _Tharn_. Tharn and Type. Getting turned on for each other.

That was the whole point of the exercise, after all.

But why didn’t it feel right?

Gulf wore a scowl for the rest of the day, unable to stop thinking about it.

Fortunately for him, that was the right expression for his character, so no one seemed to take notice of it.

He was still thinking about it, hours later, alone in his room at home.

His thigh tingled where Mew had pressed against him, a phantom weight against his leg, and his stomach still knotted when his mind lingered a moment too long on the sensation.

Mew hadn’t behaved any different from usual when the rest of the cast had entered the room, putting an end to their impromptu couple rehearsal. It was like he had forgotten about it as soon as it happened.

It was _infuriating_.

Gulf didn’t know why he was so mad. He didn’t want to think about it. Workshops were over, the next step was filming, they were going to shoot a number of love scenes and he couldn’t possibly have a crisis every time they did!

Somehow that thought made heat pool low in his stomach. 

Gulf gripped his pillow.

It was tiredness.

He was sensitive because he was exhausted and Type’s feelings were still clouding his mind.

Yes, that was it.

He was confused, because Mew had finally given his all and let go of his reservations.

He should be happy… no, ecstatic about it! His words had worked – Mew was finally coming at him with all he had and they were going to do an amazing job during filming, he was sure of it!

So why was he so damn restless?

A night of good rest would fix it, like it always did.

Yes, that was what he needed.

Sleeping.

Sleeping was good. 

With that conviction, Gulf finally closed his eyes and slept it all off.


End file.
